


A Change in the Stars

by Fmfan1980



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-05-26 01:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14989820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fmfan1980/pseuds/Fmfan1980
Summary: The world has ended. The dead have won. Now, in the future, Bran has found a way to send three people back to the past. The realm needs to be united, and all hope rests with the three people going back in time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the characters, locations, or plots from Game of Thrones. They belong to their respective owners without whom this fanfiction would not have been possible. All reviews are welcome

**Winterfell, 299AC**

Catelyn Stark stood several feet away from the silvery pool at the foot of the Heart Tree in the Winterfell godswood while she spoke to her son, Robb; the Ward of the Starks, Theon; the Maester, Luwin; and Roddrick Cassel, "I do not think Bran fell from that tower." Catelyn knew she had the attention of the men now- the group hadn't noticed the former still red coloured leaves on the Heart Tree to their left were gently rustling as a breeze gently went past the group. As they spoke among themselves about the attack by the Catspaw on Bran, the second youngest Stark, the group failed to notice a small bubble break the surface tension of the pool before it gently burst. The bubble was soon followed by another one and then another one, and then another one.

Catelyn then looked back down at the extremely thin length of yellow-tinged hair in between her hands and thought to herself, 'no one in Winterfell has yellow hair. I know every one of the household, none have this colour.' She then looked back up at the expectant faces looking back at her after admitting that she was thankful for Bran's direwolf. She the thought back to when she found the hair at the top of the broken tower close to a window, at the bottom of which Bran would eventually be pushed out. She then took a deep breath and whispered, her eyes glancing back at the hair and then back towards Robb and the others, "I think he was pushed."

"The boy was always surefooted before," Luwin mentioned, referring to Bran's uncanny ability to climb any wall, nodding at Cassel and then at Robb. Even Theon agreed verbally before adding he had seen Bran climbing in all sorts of weather.

The young Ironborn then shrugged, "and he never fell".

"But why murder an innocent child?" Robb asked.

"Unless he saw something he wasn't meant to see," the Lady of Winterfell said before looking down once more at the thin length of yellow hair between her two hands. She then remembered the letter from her sister, Lysa Arynn, about the Lannisters having killed the Hand of the King, her own husband, Jon Aryyn, and that the King himself was now in danger. Catelyn wanted her husband to remain in Winterfell, she told him that the South didn't matter… that the last time anyone from the North left for the South, they never returned. At least not alive.

"But I would stake my life that the Lannisters are involved," Catelyn continued while she brought her head back up, away from the hair.

"We already have reason to suspect their loyalty to the crown," Luwin whispered while recalling the very same raven scroll read out to him when he brought it to both Ned and Catelyn's chambers several nights ago. It was at that very sentence by Luwin that Cassel, Robb, and Theon looked at him curiously before looking back at Catelyn for some clarity. However, before anyone could say anything, Catelyn felt a chill up her spine.

Catelyn was about to mention the letter from the Vale when she stopped what she was about to say, her mouth opening and then closing wordlessly, and stared at the widened eyes on the rest of the men and boys in front of her. The group then heard the 'whoosh' made by wind as it travelled through the trees of the Godswood swaying some of the trees while the leaves on the branches rustled. She and the others looked around as the wind seemed to pick up out of nowhere- it roughly pulled leaves off the surrounding trees which were swaying under the weight of the heavy winds.

And just as it began, the winds were gone and a nervous calm returned to the godswood.

Catelyn looked around before her eyes settled on the Heart Tree, and then she turned her head towards Robb, Theon, and Ser Rodrik and then to Luwin. She was about to open her mouth and say that she felt someone, or something, watching them before hearing the sounds of bubbles bursting. Curious with her eyebrows narrowed, she and the others turned towards what should have been the still and calm pool at the foot of the Heart Tree, except it wasn't still. Catelyn and the others stared in awe as bubbles were coming up to the surface and then popping- just as if the water itself was boiling.

**The Isle of Faces, 323AC.**

Sacrifices had to be made.

'So many sacrifices' _,_ thought Bran while he was carried up to the Heart Tree, the last Heart Tree in the last Weirwood in existence on the Isle of Faces in the Godseye, ' and now the last of known humanity has to be sacrificed'. He looked up at the man carrying him, the last king of what used to be the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros; his cousin, and still brother, Jon Snow. Bran turned his head to look behind him at the three people getting out of the small boat used to navigate the Blackwater Rush all the way from Blackwater Bay to the GodsEye in water that was already near freezing- the sheen from the thin layer of ice visible to the eye even though the moon was covered by dense clouds. Only a little bit of light came through the cloud cover and reflected the layer on ice that covered the entire world.

"Sansa, Sam, Lyarra," Bran nodded at his sister, Jon's friend and Maester, followed lastly by his silver haired and dark grey eyed niece, "we do not have much time." Bran then rolled his eyes back and entered the skin of the last living raven on board one of the Ironborn ships attacking the burnt rubbles of stone and mud that used to be the Red Keep, and the rest of Kings Landing beyond. Through the eyes of the black feathered raven, Bran saw the three dead dragons and their riders- the former Mad Queen, Cersei Lannister; the former Mother of Dragons, Daenerys Targaryen; and the Night King- a bastardized triumvirate of Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives when he first united Westeros more than three hundred years ago. He saw one of the dragons, Drogon, as it flew overhead the ship the raven was on and burned the ship and all the people on board.

"The attack has begun," Bran said after he warged back into his body, "the Night King hs not sensed me yet."

"We must hurry," Jon said, his voice full of conviction even though his heart was slowly breaking at the thought of what was about to happen.

Sansa, Sam, and Lyarra nodded their heads before the small group rushed past the burned and scorched husks of the Weirwood trees, their covered feet crunching the snow as well as the remains of blackened and charred bodies already crumbling into dust beneath the snow. Even in the darkness, despite there being no stars and a bare amount of light from the moon in the sky, the group made their way towards the center of the ancient forest.

They were making their way towards a possible last chance to change events that led to the fall of Westeros and the coming of the Long Night. They were about to change history itself.

At least that was the plan.

**The Winterfort, the Three Sisters, six months ago. 323 AC.**

It was a crazy plan orchestrated by Bran after discussions with Sam, the latter having only just come out of a three day coma caused by the violent loss of a majority of his abilities, in particular the ability to shift his mind back through time using his Greensight. The loss was due to the destruction of Weirwood forests by dragon fire throughout the continent by the Night King and his two Queens.

So, after coming out of his coma, Bran and Sam hunkered down behind closed doors. They were far away from the wrath of the Night King in the largest island comprising the Three Sisters, along with several hundred refugees who fled what remained of the North after a decisive victory for the Night King and the army of the dead at Moat Cailin.

The North was decimated, and without any aid from the South, it was only a matter of time before the unthinkable happened- an already fractured realm was finally shattered into small unfixable pieces for all time.

It was Jon who sounded a general retreat before using the ancient tunnels beneath Moat Cailin that led to White Harbour. And from that other decimated city, people took charge of whatever ships that were not burned down.

As they escaped, a tearful Jon stood by an emotional Tyrion, whose life was saved by his brother just moments before the man's death, and a despondent Sansa as they watched their country burn in dragon fire. Everything burned… everything and everyone they loved was gone. Reeling after the deaths of Arya, Jamie Lannister, Tormund, Brianne, and hundreds more… the refugees made their way to the Three Sisters in the belief that the Night King would rather see the downfall of the entirety of Westeros before attacking the smaller islands. However, that did not happen. It was Bran with his abilities who reported on the fleeing refugees from Essos to Westeros since the Night King were raising the dead in the largest continent on the planet.

Some of the refugees from Essos who made it to Westeros were directed to the Three Sisters by Ironborn ships over the next few years. They were filled with people who spoke of the Fall of the Free Cities. The world had truly ended now with he coming of the Long Night. After listening to the stories by the refugees, they were housed in the surrounding region and in the castle branded newly as the Winterfort due to the large number of Northerners who outnumbered the locals. But despite initial distrust, everyone on the largest island got together… they supported one another… all to survive the coming darkness as deep grey and black clouds covered the sky.

It would be several years later that Bran screamed in pain before entering the coma. When he woke up, he claimed his mind experienced a trauma after the Weirwood trees and all sources of magic were completely and utterly destroyed by the Night King.

"At least that is what I thought," Bran told Sam that night after he awoke, "I have found a way to undo what has already been done, but it would require sacrifices." But before the idea could be taken to his two remaining siblings, Bran insisted on keeping his reawakening hidden from the castle while he and Sam, who asked him how he knew what he knew, got to work. It would be a day later that the two of them hatched a plan. An insane plan.

Bran and Sam called for both Jon and Sansa; and after hugs between them, Bran revealed the previous Three Eyed raven had come to him in his dream. That he had revealed a way to change their fates.

And it started in the Isle of Faces, a font of magic and the very place where the Pact between the First Men and the Children of the Forest was signed. Bran spoke softly about a Heart Tree that was barely alive. It was a tree that was still connected to the deteriorating magic in Westeros.

"Change fate?" Jon asked as Sansa stood by him.

"Change time," Bran whispered staring at his siblings who looked on in disbelief, "I can send three people back to just before father's death."

"Let's say this entire insane plan is possible," Sansa said as her heart thundered in her chest at the very possibility that what Bran was saying was really possible. After all, she had seen the dead walk, she had seen dragons fly, 'so maybe it is possible to change our fate." She so wanted to believe her brother, but the realist part of her shook her head and said that, "it is not possible, Bran."

"Why not send someone back to just before Jon Aryn was killed?" Jon asked as Sansa turned her head sharply towards her brother.

"Jon, you cannot give this any thought. This is simply silly, and…"

"We've lost, Sansa," Jon whispered, interrupting what Sansa wanted to say. He shook his head and continued, "look out there." Jon pointed at the window while looking up towards Sansa, and locked their eyes together, "look out there. Tell me there is hope because I can find none."

"Jon…."

"The amount of magic left is just enough to work with as it is," Bran said interrupting the two of them, "the best I could do is send three people to a period before father's death."

"What do we have to do?" Jon asked Bran before Sansa could say anything, "Bran? What do we do for this insane plan to work?"

"There will be a lot of sacrifices," Bran said looking back up into Jon's eyes, and then back to his stunned sister, and then back to Jon. He heard Sam take in a deep breath- only the former Meister knew what needed to be done. And it took everything for him not to vomit.

Glancing at Sam, Bran then took in a deep breath while his hands grasped the armrests on his wheelchair tightly. It was then that Sam said there was something else they needed to know. The former Maester then turned back towards Bran who said, while staring at Jon, "and we have to give up any hope that we have, Jon."

"What do you mean we have to give up hope?" Sansa asked staring at Sam, and then towards Bran, "Bran, we…"

"We have to give up the hope that Jon still brings to us all," Bran whispered staring at Jon, "we have to give up on what Azor Ahai means to us. This Jon is Azor Ahai, he is the rallying cry. The people here are waiting for the day when we can fight back. The people here still have hope for a better world. And…"

"What are you saying, Bran?" Sansa stood straight and glared at her brother while, at the same time, reaching for and holding Jon's hand.

"Jon is hope personified," Bran said staring at his sister before he finally looked away, "that's what I saw when I was unconscious, Jon is hope personified. He is the personification of the Song of Ice and Fire; the one who can defeat the Night King."

"But I lost…" Jon said shaking his head as he remembered Arya burning in dragon fire, "we lost, Bran. We lost everything at Moat Cailin"

"I saw a victory coming our way," Bran said his eyes glinting as he stared at the stunned looks on Sansa and Jon's face, "what remains of humanity will be victorious. As we speak there is an army of people…. Hundreds of thousands of survivors, both men and women, gathering for the final war. Your name has passed through the lips of every remaining Red Priest- they are gathering their forces. And they are preparing to come here"

"If we win, then that's a good thing," Sansa said shaking her head, "Bran…"

"The Night King has three dragons and… and the dead of Westeros and the dead of Essos under his command," Jon whispered. He felt his skin crawl and his blood freeze when imagining the army of the living in their final battle against the army of the dead. He imagined so much death and utter destruction, "how big of an army did you see?"

"Vastly more than a million that will attack the living in Westeros," Bran whispered at Jon as he recalled what seemed to be a sea of blackness washing over Westeros. Shaking his head, Bran then turned towards Sansa, "I saw the living win. But I saw us die…. I saw Lyarra die… I saw… I saw so many deaths. Even when we win, we will lose. The living will win against the dead. But the world…" Bran took in a deep breath and looked away wishing that he had his Direwolf, Summer, with him, "the remainder of humanity will suffer for years until the winter clears and spring comes. I saw a few hundred people remain after over tens of thousands died of starvation and sickness after the victory against the dead."

"A pyrrhic victory," Jon whispered as he sat down on a chair, the wood groaning under his weight.

Sansa felt sick as she sat next to Jon. She looked down at her trembling hands and shook her head in disbelief. They would win in the second battle for the Dawn, but the damage would be so grave that only a handful would survive, 'and can they continue to survive?'

Sansa looked back at her brother, the very same brother who had just woken up, look back at her with sadness. And she asked with trepidation in her voice, "there is something else, isn't there?"

"For this plan, there needs to be sacrifices," Bran said while looking down at the floor, and then back at the expectant expressions on Sansa and Jon, "accessing the remaining Weirwood magic will take everything I have."

"Bran?" Sansa said shaking her head while Jon stared at him with wide open eyes. She could only guess what Bran meant, but even without confirmation, she did not like what he was about to say, "no…"

"My life to open a rift through time, and…" Bran took a deep breath, "the deaths of hundreds to fuel the magic, and… and…" Bran glanced at Jon, and then there was a sharp pain in his chest thanks to what he had to say next. Bran gulped before saying, "and Jon's life to keep the portal stable for three people to jump through to a set moment in the past."

"No," Sansa coldly said, standing back up from her seat. She raised her chin, glared at her crippled brother, and repeated herself, "no."

"This is the only way to…"

"We know we win, so we find another way to survive the…."

"Aye, some of humanity survives," Jon whispered interrupting Sansa while staring at Bran before he turned towards the redhead, "but we still lose, Sansa. We lose everything. Those people who survive would suffer…. They would starve… they would get sick and die. Sansa, I don't know much about magic, but if my life can turn back time?" Jon got up from his chair and walked over to the enraged Sansa and grabbed her by the shoulders, "then I will give up my life gladly."

Sansa furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips together. It was then, before Sansa could say anything, that Bran said, "this is the only choice, Sansa. I would gladly give all I have to return my family to a point where we could change things. We could prevent everything that has happened."

"Bran and I spoke at length after he awoke, your Grace," Sam told the angry Sansa who sharply turned her head towards him. And the glare that she gave Sam made him want to retreat- instead he continued, "your father's death was the spark that started the War of the Five Kings. If we could prevent that spark, then the war may not happen."

"And the fuel was Lady Stark's kidnapping of Tyrion Lannister," Jon whispered as he gently placed a hand on Sansa's cheek while staring into her blue eyes, "Sansa, if we have a chance to prevent all of this? Then we take it."

"The realm needs to be united, Sansa, Jon," Bran said as he recalled the images he had seen during his coma, "whether under Baratheon or Targaryen, it does not matter. The realm has to be united to fight this threat."

"And us?" Sansa whispered at Jon while Bran and Sam looked away, "if… and that is a big if… if this plan works, then there will be no us." Sansa searched his eyes with her own, her eyes motioning towards Jon and herself. The anger slowly left her, now all Sansa felt was the freezing cold despite the heat from the fire in the hearth, "there will be no us."

"Sansa," Jon whispered as he pulled her in close and hugged her tight, "no matter what, I am with you. If what Bran says is true, then I am sending you.."

"I am staying here, and…"

"No, Sansa," Jon said with steel in his voice, pushing away the emotion he knew he should be feeling at that moment, and looking into Sansa's eyes, "you will leave this place with Lyarra and Sam. Our daughter and our closest friend."

"I…"

"Promise me that you will prevent this hell from happening," Jon asked gently while staring into Sansa's eyes, "promise me." All Sansa could do was nod her head before looking away from Jon who then turned his head to Bran and asked, "what do we do?"

**Isle of Faces, 323 AC.**

Back in the present day, everyone stopped running upon reaching a great thick trunked Heart Tree. Sansa and the others gasped upon landing their eyes on the charred trunk, the caved face warped into a twisted visage, and then up to the blackened branches where no leaves remained.

"Place me at the foot of the trunk, next to the exposed root," Bran whispered. Jon did just that by gently placing his brother on the snow covered ground with his back to the trunk, and next to a charred root of the tree lying above ground. Bran leaned back against the tree trunk and looked at Jon before he spoke, "I am sorry, Jon."

"Will this work, Bran?" Jon asked nodding as the silver haired, grey eyed, Lyarra rushed to Jon and grabbed his hand. Jon looked over at the girl who had just passed her eighteenth nameday and gave her a small smile.

"It has to," Bran whispered looking up at the dark sky, and then back down at Sansa who whispered in Lyarra's ear, the latter hugging Jon tightly. Bran watched his niece- the woman was wearing leather inlaid armour, the chest plate stamped with the sigils for both Stark and Targaryen; on her right hip was Arya's valerian dagger… the very same one that was used by the catspaw years ago in his unsuccessful attempt to kill Bran; and on her left hip was Oathkeeper- the lion on the pommel changed to dark grey direwolf.

Bran watched Lyarra step back before Sansa placed a hand on Jon's left cheek while his right hand was gently placed on her hip. In the meantime, Lyarra rushed over to Bran and kneeled down with tears welling in her eyes. Bran felt Lyarra pulling him in close for a tight hug. A hug he returned while turning his head away from Jon and Sansa kissing passionately. Instead, Bran closed his eyes and remembered the Godswood in the Winterfort, the castle that had become home to the last vestiges of humanity. He remembered being there, along with Missendei, Gendry, Sam, Gilly and little Sam, Yara Greyjoy, and Melisandre when Jon and Sansa wed under the still darkening sky.

A year later, Jon and Sansa had a boy. But he didn't last ten nights before he succumbed to a fever. Bran remembered how devastated both Jon and Sansa were at the death of the boy they named Cregan of Houses Stark and Targaryen. It would be two months later that Melisandre left for Essos once again before planning to make her way to Ashai under the cover of a spell that would hide her movements- her intent was to search for more priests of the Red God.

"I will return, and the Prince that Was Promised will win the Dawn with an army of magic," Melisandre told Jon before leaving; however, she would never return. It would be a year after Cregan's death that Jon and Sansa had Lyarra; and it would be another year later that both Gilly and Little Sam passed away following an outbreak of the pox, leaving Sam to push harder into the books that he managed to steal from the Citadel and the Winterfell library. That year, another three hundred men, woman, and children died as the pox passed through the castle and the island. Bran recalled, as he continued hugging Lyarra, how he stayed by his niece's side when she was still a babe together with Jon and Sansa. They nearly lost her.

But in the end, she survived.

'And now, she will be a part of this insane plan,' Bran thought as Lyarra pulled away and rubbed the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You know what you must do, Lyarra," Bran said looking into her wet tears. And Lyarra nodded her head while wiping her tears again. She was told of the plan just before leaving the Winterfort, and what they would do once they made it back to the past. Lyarra didn't like it… she didn't like hiding the fact she was the daughter of Jon and Sansa, the rightful Princess of Dragonstone and the Seven Kingdoms. Instead, she would have to hide her true self for a time- all for survival in the past. At least until she helped her father- at least the past version of her father- and her great-aunt, take back the Throne.

And that plan included changing the colour of her silver hair.

"Once I access the magic in the Isle," Bran said looking up at his siblings and Sam while Lyarra stood up and stepped back, "the Night King will realize what is happening. And when he does? When he realizes that I have tapped into any remaining magic? Then he will come for us here and kill us." And thus the need for a distraction led by Gendry.

"That's what you told us," Sansa, the only person who still hasn't hugged Bran, said staring sternly at her brother, "powerful magic has a powerful price. And that Jon is the key."

"If it doesn't work," Bran said, "then… then all of us will die here."

"And all I'll have is a stab wound in my hand," Jon said holding Sansa's hand as they stood side by side, "before we burn together in dragon fire." Jon grimaced at his attempt at levity as he took in the look of anger on the redhead's face. Jon sighed and turned facing her. They were eye to eye as he placed both hands on either side of her face, "over two thousand volunteers are sacrificing their lives to keep Dany and the dragons away, sacrificing their lives to fuel this magic. You, Lya, and Sam volunteered to go back and fix things" Jon then sighed before he leaned forward and gently lay his forehead against hers, "I am the song of Ice and Fire- a son of the Wolf and the dragon, a son of the South and the North… me… I'm the sacrifice to send you back."

"And it's all just a guess," Sansa whispered closing her eyes, "there is no guarantee this would work".

"And if it works," Jon whispered as Lyarra hugged Bran again while Sam leaned down and squeezed the crippled man's shoulder, "then you will see Robb again. You will keep your family together. You… you will convince father about what is to come… you and Lyarra." Jon continued to stare into her tear stained eyes, "we will always have memories of the times we spent together, Sansa." The two then kissed for a few seconds before pulling away their lips off each other, "you're with me in my heart." Jon then shifted his eyes towards Lyarra who was kissing Bran's forehead, "as will be Lyarra."

Sansa nodded her head.

"Jon," Bran said staring at his sister and cousin, "it's time."

Jon pulled away reluctantly from Sansa and nodded his head. His heart was racing… thundering against his ribs. "It's up to you now, Sansa. You have the scrolls I signed and sealed?"

"Yes," Sansa whispered with tears welling in her eyes. Jon then turned to Lyarra who had a pained expression on her face before she nodded her head, "you'll see Winterfell as it was… as it should be now. You'll see the sun, you'll feel the warmth, the gentle chill in the breeze, and you'll see a sky full of stars."

Lyarra rushed forward and hugged Jon tight as tears streamed down her face, "I… I…"

"Look after your mother," Jon whispered in her ear as Lyarra released a sob and nodded her head, "respect your grandmother and grandfather." Lyarra nodded her head, "and the murmurs show will be temporary.'

"Yes, Papa," Lyarra struggled speaking as tears travelled down her cheeks. It was now that Sansa stepped forward and placed her hands on Lyarra's shoulders. She pulled her daughter back just as Sam joined them both. In the meantime, while Jon took out the sharp dagger from the sheath on his left hip, Sansa rushed to Bran, kneeled, and hugged him tight. She felt Bran immediately wrap his arms around her- the both of them thinking about happier times and what was about to happen.

"You know what to do, Sam," Jon said as Lyarra hugged him again under the dark sky,

"I'll help her… I'll advise her," Sam said after Lyarra stepped away and then approached Bran once again with Sansa, "I know we need her army and Dragons at full strength for the Great War." Jon then nodded his head before asking Sam if he remembered to bring the scroll with him. Sam nodded his head as he reached into his cloak and felt the raised wax seal around the scroll, "I'll give it to Daenerys, Jon."

Jon nodded his head before turning his head upon hearing Lyarra's voice.

"And we know our role, papa," Lyarra said pulling away from Bran and wiping her eyes, "the kingdoms have to be united, even if it's under the control of the Usurper."

"Take care of your mother," Jon whispered again while taking two steps towards Lyarra and then placing a hand on her left cheek. He then stepped away while reaching towards the small handle on his right hip and unsheathing a dagger with his right hand, "tell Rob and the others that… that I love them."

"And grandmother? I mean Lady Stark?" Lyarra said glancing at Sansa who parted from Bran and was now standing up.

"Tell her…" Jon wondered what message he could leave Catelyn Sark, the woman who was never a mother to him, a woman who barely tolerated him, the woman who would have kicked him out of Winterfell if it were not for Ned Stark. He wanted to be angry… he wanted to send her a message of anger. But the truth was that he didn't care about what Catelyn thought. All that mattered was that his wife, his daughter, and his best friend were going to be safe. Jon simply sighed before saying, "I'm sure Sansa will have things to tell Lady Stark."

At this time, Bran had placed his hand on the thick root of the Heart Tree and called out for Sansa, Lyarra, and Sam to be ready. They nodded their heads while Bran turned to Jon, "Jon, we have only one chance at this." Jon nodded his head before he looked back at Sansa and the others. His eyes lingered on his daughter and Sansa for a few more seconds before walking towards the Heart Tree- his dagger held tight in his hand.

"Once the portal opens, the three of you must leave," Bran said once Jon stood in front of the Heart Tree, facing the carved expression on the trunk that was staring back at them. "This spell is dangerous and… and the cost is losing everything and everyone we love. It's a price that can only be paid once."

"Bran…" Sansa spoke before she was stopped by her younger brother.

"We do this to fight for a new future," Jon said turning around before looking over at Bran, "I'm ready."

"Sansa, Lyarra, Sam…." Bran whispered as he touched the root, "go."

Bran pulled his head back, his eyes rolling back to expose the whites. Jon turned back towards the trunk, placed his hand on the charred surface, and plunged the dagger through the top of his hand and into the trunk.

"Jon!" Sansa yelled out as Lyarra, with tears in her eyes, and Sam held her back just as the ground started to shake and a heavy wind enveloped them.

Jon could barely see through his rapidly blurring vision as he felt his life being sucked way, his blood flowing down the trunk and onto the eyes of the carved face. He fell down on his knees as he felt his body weaken and swore to himself that he could hear a woman screaming in anguish. The last thing he ever saw was his bleeding hand turning pale, and then wrinkling, and then black before his vision faded away.

Sansa was screaming for Jon- she saw him fall on his knees before his body started literally withering away. It was then that she heard the sound of thunder… so close that it seemed it was coming from behind them. Just then the Night King, riding on top of Viserion while he and the others finished burning the ships attacking Kings Landing, suddenly stopped and turned his head towards the direction of the Godseye. He opened his mouth and screamed in rage- the sound of ice cracking travelled through the air and to the GodsEye, reaching the ears of the crippled man and what remained of his family.

It was just then that an opening behind Sansa and the others seemed to tear open- a rift which looked like a shimmering silver pool opened a foot off the ground.

"Sansa," Bran whimpered. He looked up at his sister who, in a look of stunned silence, stared back at the whitening hair on her younger brother's head, "go."

Sansa heard the rage filled scream of the Night King as well as the roar of the three dragons in the distance. They were coming- that's what Sansa was thinking. She took one last look at her dead husband turn to dust before her eyes settled on Bran, who looked as if he was well into his ninetieth nameday.

"Go," Bran whimpered as he grasped the branch harder with his pale hand. Sansa felt tears stream down her cheeks while her shoulders were grasped by both her sobbing daughter and a crying Sam. Bran watched his family step through the tear before it closed shut. Now he was alone. He looked up at the dragons in the distance before the ground started to rumble. He closed his eyes and felt the vibrations shaking the root he was holding. "And here is the cost of using such powerful magic," Bran whispered as he leaned back while feeling his skin tighten, "may the gods be with you, my family".

He glanced through his cloudy vision as cracks started to form on the root, and then the ground. He looked up as large chasms opened up, releasing violent eruptions of steam and columns of fire into the sky. Bran closed his eyes as he remembered what Bloodraven told him when he was in his coma- that changing fate had severe consequences. It meant the end of all things.

Bran opened his eyes, and barely saw the oncoming dragons before there was a great flash of red and orange. He didn't scream as the intense heat from the column of lava that erupted violently from beneath the Isle of faces melted his body and the other trees.

Westeros was gone. The entire continent started to break up- the large chasms and cracks that formed released fire and molten rock violently out and up into the air. The dragons burned as entire sections of the North violently exploded as lava from deep below the planet was pushed up to the surface due to the use of such intense magic. The Night King screamed as he died. Dany screamed as she burned- the Unburnt Queen turned to molten flesh within a few seconds, as did the Mad Queen.

The Dragons were destroyed. The dead were resting in peace, and the Night King would be a part of a history that would never be written down.

Everything was being destroyed- even Essos which started to violently rip apart. Explosions devastated the Free Cities, Asshai, and many other places. There was nowhere to hide for the remaining panicked humans. All of them would later burn.

Back in Westeros, Casterly Rock was destroyed as it fell into the churning sea, Highgarden was split open before it collapsed on itself, and exploded as lava from deep beneath the planet violently released outwards.

Westeros literally shattered as several great explosions ripped the continent apart. And this was soon followed by Essos, and several other nations. All were gone. All were destroyed. Life was burned away.

And now all hope lay with three survivors of a destroyed world to change the fate of Westeros.

**TBC.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Castle Black, 299 AC.**

"My gift to you," Jon heard a male whisper. It was just after he felt darkness take him following his sacrifice for the spell that would bring his family; his wife and child, and best friend back to the past. To before the War of the Five Kings, to before the death of his uncle, Eddard Stark; to before the end of the world.

After the whisper while Jon was covered in darkness, suddenly he felt himself being shot forward through a tunnel of lights. It was so bright that all he could do was close his eyes, "Jon!"

Upon hearing the unfamiliar female voice yell out his name, Jon opened his eyes to find himself standing on a layer of snow… snow still falling from the grey skies above. While that would have been surprising, the thing that surprised him even more was seeing the woman standing in front of him.

It was a black haired, steel grey eyed, pale complexioned woman standing in front of him. She wore a black and grey dress, the skirt reaching the level of the snow already on the ground, and with a fur cloak around her shoulders. Jon stepped forward with his eyes never left the woman in front of him – he tried to force his mind to find out where he had seen her before.

She was so familiar. It was like her image was at the tip of his mind, but no matter how much he reached for that memory, it continued to slip away. Jon pressed his lips together as the woman gave him a nervous smile and took a few steps closer before she stopped… her hands clasped together low.

Jon could see tears well in her eyes.

"Ned…" the woman said before she closed her eyes and shook her head. Jon wanted to say that he wasn't Ned Stark – that was the only Ned he knew, and so believed that the woman… whoever she was, thought he was the dead Lord of Winterfell. Jon wanted to say that he was Jon Snow, or rather Aegon Targaryen, as named by his mother on her death bed. But before he could make his thoughts into words, the woman opened her eyes once again, "Ned fulfilled his promise to me. He kept you safe. He kept you protected."

Jon's eyes narrowed at the woman. 'He swore to protect me… he made that promise only to… no… no… it…' There was only one woman Jon knew of who asked an unbreakable promise of Ned Stark. Only one woman. And Jon knew she died the day he was born.

"I wanted to keep you in my arms, I wanted to see you take your first steps, I wanted to see Rhaegar read to you, I wanted to see Ned and Benjen teach you to fight with swords, and I wanted to teach you to ride," the woman said, her voice echoing her anguish with every word as she gingerly stepped forward, her body trembling while staring into Jon's ever widening eyes, "I'm so sorry, Jon. I am so very sorry."

Jon's mind went back to the statue in the crypts beneath the now destroyed Winterfell… her likeness was the only female statue in the crypts. The very statue on whose hand he lay a single Winter Rose before riding off for battle against the dead. The only statue of a woman who became a Princess of Westeros and then, for one fleeting moment before her death, became the un acknowledged Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Legs trembling at her sight, Jon shook his head and his knees buckled. He fell onto his knees on the snow covered ground while the woman, Lyanna Stark, rushed forwards and hurryingly went down on both her knees in front of her adult son. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and stared into his steel grey eyes.

"My boy," Lyanna whispered before she leaned forward and kissed his left cheek, and then pulled back, her hands placed gently on his cheeks while his own hands lifted up and gingerly pressed against her arms. He wanted to make sure she was real – as real as a dead man and a dead woman could feel each other. His hands then gingerly landed on both sides of her head.

"M… Mother," Jon whispered in disbelief.

"I wish I could stay longer with you," Lyanna said as the snow seemed to fall faster around them, "but this is not your time. Not yet."

"I…" Jon didn't know what he could say, what does one say to someone who was dead, "I… you… you are here… and… I am here. I am…"

"I will always be here," Lyanna whispered laying her forehead against his as they stared at each other, "Bran used powerful magic, that magic is now still demanding its heavy price."

"I don't understand," Jon whispered as Lyanna pulled back, and then, while still on her knees, grabbed her son's hands on her cheeks, and then smiled.

"The magic opened a doorway to the past, and for one moment, the world of the living and the dead merged," Jon heard the voice of a male and his eyes shifted towards the man behind Lyanna standing on his two feet, "this is my gift to you, Jon."

"Bran," Jon whispered as he got up to his feet, along with Lyanna. The older woman turned and smiled at her nephew, releasing her hold on her son, and stepped back. Jon then looked at Lyanna who nodded her head. Jon then turned back to Bran, and asked, "I felt myself die, so how…"

"Are you here?" Bran asked with his arms behind his back, "you died Jon, as did I. As did what remained of Humanity all over the world. Only Lyarra, Sansa, and Samwell have left for the past."

"Bran used powerful magic," Lyanna said reaching out to hold Jon's right hand, "the world you knew, the time you knew, it has all been destroyed."

"It is true, Jon," Bran said as Jon turned towards him in stunned silence, "I told you that there would be a heavy price to pay. And this is it. Our present had to be sacrificed for our family to return to the past. The hope you represented had to be sacrificed."

"Everything is gone?" Jon whispered.

"Yes," Bran replied nodding his head, "while the magic was enough to send through three physical bodies back in time, I realized after my death that for one moment between the beating of a heart and the destruction of said life, the realms of the living and the dead merged."

Jon stared at the pensive look on Bran's face, and then at Lyanna, "and what does that mean? Why am I here? I am dead."

"A choice," Lyanna said softly.

"A choice?" Jon asked in disbelief, "what kind of a choice? I died to send my family to the past because that was the right thing to do," Jon was confused; however his voice still rose up, "and now I have a choice?"

"This is a moment between my life, and my death" Bran whispered, "you died, Jon. That is true. Once I passed, I realized there was a moment to pull one more soul out of the ether. When the realms of the living and the dead merged, I pulled your soul out. And now you have a choice."

"You can stay here, in the embrace of the Old Gods," Lyanna said as tears streamed down her face. She felt her chest clench as she continued, "or you can return to the past. You will not be as you are now, physically."

"Your essence will return to your body," Bran said, "you will have your memories and your experiences, but in your old body. Your body before you were resurrected."

"Mother… I…" Jon said looking at Lyanna.

"Rhaegar, Elia, Ned, Rhaenys, Aegon, Dany, Arya… even Catelyn," Lyanna spoke stepping up to her son again, "there are all here waiting. We are waiting for you, my boy."

"You can stay with us, or you can return to the past," Bran said, "and live a second life again."

"Jon?" Lyanna whispered, "what do you choose?"

"I…" Jon closed his eyes before opening them to find Lyanna looking right back at him, "I need to know… I need to know why.. why you never told anyone, mother. Why did the war have to take place? Why didn't you and Rhaegar simply tell anyone what was happening? That you…"

Lyanna closed her eyes and sighed, "Jon, there is not long left before the window to send your soul back to the past closes, and…"

"Ever since Bran revealed the truth to me," Jon spoke with a hint of sadness in his voice, he felt so weary now that he couldn't be angry at the fact that his parents, his biological parents' foolishness led to a war in which he was born, "I felt it was my fault… that I should not exist if…"

"Never say that," Lyanna replied in a serious tone tightening her hold on his hand, "never say that."

"Then why did you nor Rhaegar say anything?" Jon demanded.

"I did," Lyanna whispered looking into the eyes of the surprised Jon while Bran pressed his lips together and looked away, "I did tell someone. And that's why the realm bled."

**Winterfell, 299 AC.**

Catelyn, Luwin, Robb, and Theon stood with their mouths agape as they stared at the formerly still silver pool- a pool which now looked as if it was boiling. But they couldn't see any steam rising nor could they feel any heat.

"Mother," Robb whispered as he stared in utter shock as the steam rising up from the pool, "what is this?"

Catelyn shook her head while staring at the heatless boiling pool. She then raised her head and looked around at the godswood before turning her head towards the Heart Tree. The fact was that she never felt comfortable here, she felt as if there were eyes looking at her and whispers carried in the breeze that usual brushed through the godswood that said she didn't belong. That she was t a true Northerner.

At first, it worried her that she wouldn't be able to live in the North. And then Ned built a Sept specially for her- and suddenly she felt welcome. Now her children, particularly Robb and Sansa follow the Faith of the Seven while Arya and Bran lean more towards the Old Gods. But right now, all that was going through her head was, 'which of those gods are doing this?' Shaking her head, Catelyn completed her own answers in her head, 'of course it has to be the Old Gods. This is the North, and the Old Gods have more power here and…'

Suddenly, Catelyn was pulled back wildly by Robb who grabbed her by the shoulders. Catelyn heard a "BOOM!" just as the water from the pool exploded upwards. As she was being pulled back, she glanced at Rodrick, Luwin, and Theon jumping back- with Theon falling back on his ass after tripping over a rock. But that wasn't the only unusual sound.

"AAAAAAAHHHH!" Catelyn stared in stunned silence while she continued to be pulled back by her son who, after some considerable distance away from the pool, pulled out his sword and raised it as the scream from a black lump stopped after falling back onto the wet ground. She then heard the sounds of steel being pulled out of their sheaths as she stared at the back lump- a lump that started to move while a soft groaning sound came from what she could see now was a black, fur coat.

"Ser Rodrick," Robb said as the lump rolled onto his - everyone saw that it was a man- a slightly portly man who had black hair and a shortened black beard. He was wearing what looked like black leather underneath his cloak- the same type that the Starks have seen when men of the Nights Watch would wear when stopping at Winterfell while bringing back 'volunteers' to the Wall. Robb pushed Catelyn back while he stood in front of her, his stance screaming that he was ready to kill, and the older redheaded woman could only watch with her heart racing as the portly man rolled onto his back and laughed.

"Speak, intruder, before I…" Theon said as he pointed his sword at the man who quickly looked at him after sitting up. His eyes were wide open as he stared at Theon.

"Lord Greyjoy," the mysterious man said, "I…" Catelyn was surprised, just as the others were, that the mysterious man knew who Theon was. What was even more unusual was then the man then looked around, his head moving sharply from one direction to another, "no… no… we were supposed to come here together, and…."

'We?' Catelyn thought as she placed a hand on her son's tensed shoulder, 'they are more coming? But from where? How does her know Theon when…' Catelyn glanced at the confusion on Theon's face, '… he doesn't seem to know him.' Catelyn then glanced back at the portly man, 'and I have never seen him before.'

"Who is supposed to come with you?" It was Rodrick who asked the question that had been in Catelyn's mind. And it was an answer she was waiting for as she stood next to Robb who tried to push her a few steps back with his left arm.

"Mother, stay back," Robb whispered.

But before the mystery man could provide an answer to Rodrik, there were two more "BOOM!"s before the water exploded upwards. This time, Catelyn saw two figures in black launch up in to the air before crashing back onto the now softer ground, softer thanks to the sprinkling downfall of the water from the pool. Robb looked back at Catelyn, and then at the others as the portly man got up to his unsteady feet and rushed towards the two figures lying on the ground several feet away. The two figures were moving as they lay face down. He could see the two of them, one with long red hair, and the other with silver hair ending at her shoulders, trying to push themselves up. He heard them groan as the portly man rushed and kneeled next to the one with red hair.

"Your Graces," he yelled at the two while the others stared in complete confusion as to what was happening. From where Robb was standing, the kneeling man hid the faces of one of the figures as they moved to lay on their sides. Catelyn moved to stand next to Robb, but from her vantage point, she wasn't able to see the two faces.

"By the gods," Luwin whispered while he turned back towards a stunned Theon, and then towards the stunned Rodrik. And he knew they were seeing what he was seeing, from their vantage point, they could see the faces of the newcomers very well, and while they didn't recognize the young woman with silver hair, they recognized the one with red hair. Her face was slightly older, but the look was just as if she was a mirror of Catelyn Stark.

Before he could say or do anything, Luwin watched as the silver haired women slowly sat up… her eyes opened as she stared at him, and then at the others, before turned her head towards Catelyn and Robb. She then pulled her head back and smiled as she stared at the blue sky above them.

"It worked," Lyarra whispered closing her eyes and taking in the warmth that brushed against her cheeks, "by the gods it worked." She opened her eyes to see the bright blue sky with wisps of white clouds floating by slowly. Lyarra's smile then vanished, and she pressed her lips together at the thought of her father not being able to come with them. She looked back towards the three people in front of her; she didn't recognize any of them, and then she turned her head back to the left and saw the two with red hair staring back at her, 'Grandmother and… and that must be Uncle Robb.' Lyarra then turned her head towards Sam who was helping Sansa sit up, his hand supporting her back as she released a cough.

"Mother," Lyanna whispered reaching for and grabbing her hand. Sansa turned back towards Lyarra, tears in her eyes, and nodded her head, "it worked." Sansa nodded her head once again before silently looking back to the three in front of her as they took a step back in stunned silence. Sansa and Lyanna then heard Robb and Catelyn asking what it was that surprised them. Sansa looked back up as Robb and Catelyn came into view after shifting positions to stand across from Sansa and Lyarra.

Catelyn gasped as she brought her hands to her chest while she heard something similar from her son. A minutes ago, the body of the portly man obstructed their view of the two newcomers laying on the ground, but the sound of gasps from Luwin, Theon, and Rodrick made them wonder what it was that was so surprising. And so, Catelyn and Robb shifted sideways to their left, later releasing gasps themselves when they got a good view of who lay on the ground.

"S… Sansa?" Catelyn whispered while Robb shook his head.

"Can't be… she's in Kings Landing…" Robb whispered. He had seen Sansa off when she left with his father and Arya, he had seen all of them off when they left for the Capital. He knew in his heart that Sansa, Arya, and his father were still in the Capital. There would have been a raven sent to Winterfell if Ned had decided to send Arya and Sansa back - but the two… no three… people in front of them didn't come by horse or in a wheelhouse surrounded by a retinue of guards. They came through the pool at the foot of the Heart Tree.

As for Catelyn, she stared at Sansa who stared back at her. She could see a mixture of happiness and anger on her expression.

"Sansa?" Catelyn whispered again, "how… you… you're in Kings Landing."

"Mother," Catelyn said as she looked away from the older redhead. A part of her was happy to see Catelyn, she was also happy for Lyarra to meet her grandmother, but another part of her was angry at the way Catelyn treated Jon. It was that treatment of Jon which Sansa, when she was younger, emulated so that she would remain in her good graces while Robb and Arya, and even Bran and Rickon, gravitated towards Jon. Sansa didn't want Catelyn to be angry at her, as she was when Robb and the others would play with Jon, she wanted Catelyn to love her more.

And so, to her everlasting regret, Sansa treated Jon with the same contempt. 'And then the War happened. We were betrayed, I was betrayed, and after everything… after the abuse and torture, it was Jon. Jon, the very man I treated like trash, was the one who saved me… who returned me to my home.' She felt tears gathering as she remembered Jon, and then Sansa turned to Lyarra… the second result of their marriage… and held back her tears.

"There is no time," Sansa said after taking a deep breath, and then looking at Lyarra who turned her head back towards her, "welcome home. Welcome to Winterfell."

Lyarra nodded her head and smiled. She had heard about her family's two seat of power – Winterfell for the part of her that was Stark, and Dragonstone for her Targaryen blood. Bran would tell her of how he would climb Winterfell's walls, Jon told her stories of him playing and running and training with Robb, and Sansa told her stories about the North and their heritage. All Lyarra had were stories, and now she was going to see Winterfell for the first time, 'and after the dead are all gone, I want to see Dragonstone.'

Sansa then turned back towards Catelyn and her eyes then shifted to Robb. She held back her anger at her older brother – the brother who left her alone in Kings Landing. Sansa thought she was over her feelings of anger; it was Jon who would explain to her that Robb would have lost the loyalty of the North if he voluntarily released Jamie Lannister for her and Arya. It was Jon who explained that there was no guarantee of an exchange, that in a time of war, Robb needed his prisoners close to protect Sansa and Arya. Over time, her anger faded and she was left with an emptiness at the thought of Robb.

But now, he was alive standing confused in front of her. And Sansa felt her anger flare up before reminding herself the Robb standing in front of her was different.

'He has not experienced the War… and we're here to ensure that he does not,' Sansa thought as a small smile appeared on her face.

"Sam," she said looking back at her friend, "we're no longer your Graces."

"Sorry, Lady Stark and…" Sam glanced at Theon, and then at Sansa once again. Before the final assault on Kings Landing in their future, Jon and the others agreed that there was a need for absolute secrecy in Lyarra's heritage. They knew that Winterfell had spies; Varys' little birds and Baelish's whores and other paid informants. So while they may not be able to prevent the revelation of certain future events coming to light before being revealed by Sansa, Lyarra, or Sam… the parentage of Lyarra was going to be secret.

It was the secrecy that angered Lyarra the most. She was being forced to give up her name, albeit temporarily; and the name of her father. Her mother had to pretend she never married Jon, and that was something that angered Lyarra even both of them were taking the names of the Targaryen's most despised enemy so that Robert's wrath would simply fly over them.

"Blackfyre," Robb repeated the last name as he stared at Lyarra, "Elisa Blackfyre?" It was the name spoken by the portly man as the woman identified as Elisa Blackfyre slowly got up to her feet.

"And this is Samwell," Sansa said as she was pulled to her feet. The three of them stood together facing Catelyn and Robb while the other three walked closer before stopping next to the two Starks.

"The Blackfyre line was ended," Theon said, his grip tightening on his swords pommel, "but I suppose I'll ask the question that's in everyone's mind, how did you get here, and who are you really?"

"The Blackfyre line continued through the females," 'Elisa said staring at Theon who narrowed his eyes at her, "males born were given the name Blackfyre. And I was born to such a male on the Three Sisters."

"The Three Sisters?" Catelyn asked as she stared at the silver haired younger woman, and then her eyes shifted to Sansa. It was then she noticed that the older version of her Daughter was holding on tight to Elisa's hand. Catelyn felt a sudden chill in the air as a sudden pain throbbed in her chest. Sansa was looking right back at her. Catelyn's eyes shifted back to Lyarra, and she immediately saw what she was looking for - the traits of a Stark.

"Sansa?" Catelyn whispered shaking her head, "who..."

"Her father came to the Three Sisters a year after we fled the North," Sansa said looking over at Lyarra before turning her head back to Catelyn and noticed the look of confusion on her face. But Sansa continued, pushing forward with the lie she needed to say, "he was a Blackfyre. He helped us fight and... and I fell in love with him."

"Sansa," Robb said stepping forward, "what are you...?"

"Elisa is my daughter," Sansa said as the five stared at the three of them is shock.

"Hello Uncle," Elisa said with a small smile. She the turned to Catelyn and pushed back her anger at how the woman treated her father. Instead, she gave her a wide smile that reached up to her eyes and said, "hello, grandmother.

Catelyn and the others were speechless as they continued to stare at what seemed to be impossible. Sansa then took a deep breath and stepped forward, her head held high, just as if she was the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. "There was no choice... in teh end," Sansa then took a deep breath, "I know you have a lot of questions, mother... Robb. But those questions can wait. There is a perfectly good reason why the three of us have traveled back in time."

"What?" Theon thought he heard wrong when Sansa... the older Sansa, mention travelling back in time. It wasn't that he didnt have other questions about her claims, but time-travel was simply impossible... a fools dream, "pardon?"

"We are from the year 323 AC," Sam said.

"This is a jest," Robb said shaking his head, "I…."

"Elisa," Sansa said, her eyes locked to Ser Rodrick and then the dagger in his hand, "show Ser Rodrick the dagger I gave you the day you learned how to hold a sword." Sansa then looked over at Lyarra and thought to herself, 'the day I gave you that dagger was the day you held your first sword. Jon was there too. It was the day he told you about your brave Aunt Arya.' Sansa nodded her head as Lyarra looked over at her.

'Elisa' then reached down and grabbed the hilt of the dagger that once belonged to her Aunt Arya, given to her by Sansa as a gift when she was old enough to swing a sword. She took several steps forward while holding he blade with its hilt pointed out towards Rodrick to show that she wasn't a danger. Rodrick took steps forward as well before he took he hilt in his hand. He saw 'Elisa' release the blade while taking a look at her facial features, there was something there he couldn't explain before looking down at the blade and compared it to the blade in his other hand, the blade that was used by the catspaw in his attempt at Bran's life.

"Lady Catelyn," Sam then spoke up while Rodrick handed Theon and Luwin the dagger so that they could compare it as well, "I'm Samwell of House Tarly, I can prove that we are from where we say we are."

Catelyn nodded her head, signalling for Sam to continue; all the while glancing over at Sansa and her supposed granddaughter.

Instead, Sam looked back at Sansa who stood straight and poised like she knew a Lady should be standing. "My Lady," Sam said.

"Mother, a night before Bran fell from the Broken Tower," Sansa said staring at Catelyn – it was still surprising for Luwin and the others at how similar in age the two redhead's looked. It was uncanny. But their concentration, especially Luwin's, turned to Sansa when she mentioned something that only he, Ned, and Catelyn knew about, "you and father received a message from Aunt Lysa accusing the Lannisters of murdering Jon Arryn. That father needed to go to Kings Landing because they may kill the king."

"How….."

"Mother," Robb turned to the surprised Catelyn, "you said there was reason to suspect the Lannisters were disloyal to the crown, is this…"

"How did you know?" Catelyn interrupted as she stared at Sansa.

Sansa glanced at Luwin who was staring at her confused.

"You were there too, Maester Luwin," Sansa smiled, "it is good to see you again."

"Lady Sansa," Luwin said, "how did you know?"

"It's a complicated story," Sansa said looking at Luwin before turning back towards her mother. "Mother, what we have to tell you cannot go beyond these walls. There is a plan already in place to tell selected people our story and why we are here. But what we have to say cannot leave the castle walls… which means you… all of you must not tell anyone of what we say."

"Please, promise us," Lyarra asked as she looked at Robb, 'please, Uncle Robb.'

Catelyn and the others had so many questions swimming in their heads, especially Rodrick as he compared the two daggers in his hands.

"Sansa," Catelyn nodded her head, still in disbelief about what had just happened. But there was no way to describe away what she was seeing in front of her, "we swear. Tell us, if you really are from the future, why have you come back?"

"To prevent the end of the world, mother," Sansa said as Catelyn narrowed her eyes in confusion while Robb and Theon mumbled with each other, "that's why we returned."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The Wall, 299 AC

Jon

"I did tell someone, and that's why the realm bled."

Jon stared at his mother standing in front of him, the white snow falling faster now, before there was a brilliant flash of light. Jon covered his eyes with his arms and waited for the light to fade. As it began to fade, the smell of horse manure and the sounds of neighing reached his nose and ears respectively. Slowly, he opened his eyes and lowered his arms… the light fading away to reveal a stable. He stood on hay covered muddy ground while on his left were rows of stables with a single horse in each.

"My lady!" Jon turned around to hear a voice calling out. And the sight before him surprised Jon, the woman had looked so much like Arya the day she died. But it wasn't Arya.

"Mother!" Jon called out to the younger Lyanna, but she didn't turn acknowledge him, or rather, she couldn't acknowledge him. However, the boy running behind her seemed familiar, but Jon couldn't place him.

"My Lady!" the boy yelled again before the young woman spun around and put her finger on her lips, she then looked around to make sure they were alone, and then rushed forward and placed her hand over his mouth while her other hand rested on his shoulder. Jon then heard a muffled voice while the woman shook her head with a frown on her face.

"Be silent," she hissed. She glared into his eyes. Jon could see her tightening her hold on his left shoulder, "be fucking silent, do you understand?" The boy nodded his head, his eyes wide open staring at the young woman while Jon wracked him brain trying to place the boy and if he had seen him before. Jon saw the younger Lyanna pull back her hand from the boy's lips before she glared at him for a second before she turned again and hurried to one of the racks on the left side and grabbed a saddle.

"Mother, what are you doing?" Jon whispered while hearing Lynna speak.

"You're Petyr, Lady Catelyn's friend, are you not?" Lyanna asked while she was inside one of the stables hitching the saddle on the back of the horse. Jon could see she was in a hurry from the sweat beading on her forehead, her cheeks, and the sheen from her neck. Jon then looked back at the boy as the name clicked in his mind.

"Baelish," he hissed at the boy. Jon remembered the slimy snake of a man when he told him in no uncertain terms, back in his time period down in the crypts, that he loved Sansa. Jon remembered the anger that welled up in him before he rushed Baelish and pushed him hard against the wall as he recalled Sansa saying that Baelish was the one who sold her to the Boltons, that he most likely knew the kind of man Ramsey Bolton was and still did it anyway. Jon was angered at the fact that this snake dared to speak the name of his sister from the very lips that betrayed her. If he could, Jon wished to himself, he would take his sword and ram it through the boy's chest.

'That would have saved Sansa so much pain,' Jon thought to himself glaring at the boy as Lyanna then placed a bridle around the head of the horse. Jon took a few steps forward to see Lyanna pat the head of the horse after attaching the bridle and then she placed her foot in one of the stirrups and pulled herself up onto the saddle seat. She then gripped the reins and stared down at Baelish after the latter asked where she was leaving to, and when she was coming back.

"Your brother will be here by tomorrow, my Lady," he said with a frown on his face, "the rehearsals for Cat… I mean Lady Catelyn's wedding is tomorrow. And tomorrow is when you meet Robert Baratheon." He then stepped forward while saying, "my Lady Stark, it is very unusual for a Lady to go out riding at this time of night. At least let me call for…"

"You will not call…"

"Then why are you leaving so late in the night?" Baelish asked.

Jon saw Lyanna frown at the boy as he blocked her way out of the stable.

"Out of my way, boy," Lyanna growled narrowing her eyes at Baelish.

"Run him over, mother," Jon hissed staring at the boy who would cause his family, and the realm based on what Sansa told him, so much grief.

"My lady, please, this is highly improper…"

"As improper as demanding my brother duel with you for the hand of his betrothed?" Lyanna said nodding her head at the surprise on his face, "I know who you are, and I know what the others call you." Jon and Lyanna could see the boy before them bristle in anger – Jon had heard from Sansa how Baelish despised being called Littlefinger – before Lyanna sighed and shook her head, "but I suppose I am not one of those people." And a smile came on Lyanna's face while Baelish's hands rolled into fists, "so, Petyr, I am asking you to step aside. Just as you wanted the hand of the Lady Catelyn, there is someone else who has offered their hand to mine. A man whose love is… complicated… but he loves me unconditionally."

"But Robert…"

"Robert Baratheon will never keep to one bed," she hissed, her anger at hearing Robert's name surprising both Jon and Baelish, "Ned and Brandon can preach all they want about how much of a good man he is. I have seen him… the way he acts… no… I will never marry that brute."

Lyanna closed her eyes and shook her head as she tried to calm herself down. Opening her eyes again, Jon saw that she was staring directly at Baelish, "I will not be a Lady of Stormsend, hidden away while my husband fucks whores and ladies, creating one bastard after another. That will not be my life."

Lyanna stared at Baelish before she spoke once again, "I have left a missive for my brother in my chambers. Please make sure he gets it."

Baelish nodded his head before asking, "and where will you be going to, my Lady?"

Lyanna stared at Baelish wondering if she could trust him with the truth. The fact was that there was no reason to trust him, in fact she hardly knew him. But it was the fact that he still hadn't called the castle guards yet that made her let down her own guard. She then asked him if he heard about the incident at Harrenhal. Lyanna could see the surprise on Baelish's face when the latter realised that she was talking about the crowning of the Queen of Love and Beauty… about how Rhaegar Targaryen crowned her instead of his wife.

"So, the person you love is the Prince?" Baelish said. He hid the smile that threatened to form, instead he stared at Lyanna as if she had grown two heads. With a look of external shock, his mind was already working to somehow twist this particular event to his own benefit. He just needed to confirm something, and when Lyanna nodded her head at his question… the pieces started to fall into place. Baelish then stepped forward with a look of outrage and hissed while pointing out towards the fairly busy courtyard, "what about your brother? If you go to the Prince then…"

"That's why I have left a missive in my chambers," Lyanna said before shaking her head. "You may think me cowardly not facing Brandon, Ned, and Benjen… but I know in my heart they will force me into this marriage. I would rather instead die than marry that lumbering Baratheon oaf. Instead, I choose to leave for the South where I will meet the Prince, and…"

"The Prince is already married," Baelish explained while the horse trotted out of its paddock.

"Aegon the Conqueror had two wives," Jon heard Lyanna say as she looked down at him, "Brandon will be here by tomorrow. And by then I would have met Rhaegar. We would have been married, and then… then peace would reign again."

'Oh mother,' Jon thought as he stared at her, 'no…'

"For now, Petr, farewell," Lyanna said as her horse trotted past the guards who all nodded their heads at her. Jon could see the horse and woman moving away before they faded, and Jon felt as if he was lying on something wet and cold.

"Jon!"

Jon's thought his vision was hazy now since all he could make out were dull grey colours.

"Jon! Are you alright?"

Jon recognized that voice. And then he heard a horse's neigh in the background, followed by the crunching of feet coming towards him. He closed his eyes and winced as pain shot through his back from his legs to the back of his head. Jon blinked his eyes rapidly to clear the blurred vision, and before he knew it… he was staring up at grey clouds floating high overhead. He could see the sunlight breaking through the clouds, 'sunlight. By the Old Gods, sunlight after so long.'

"Jon!"

He's eyes shifted towards the face of the man all in black standing over him with a look of concern on his face. Jon saw him kneel down and then use his hand to pad his body for any injuries while others, also Black Brothers from the Wall, stood over him – some glaring at him while the others were scanning the nearby grounds with their eyes.

'This is the time I went on my way to the wall,' Jon thought as the man who was still looking at him in concern breathed a sigh of relief before standing up and then reaching down towards him with one hand. "Uncle." Jon said as he raised a hand towards Benjen Stark.

"Come on, my boy," Benjen Stark said as he leaned forward and grabbed Jon's hand and pulled him up. Jon winced in pain a bit more before he was standing on his feet, his eyes on Benjen – the man was alive. He wasn't dead… he was breathing in front of him right now. And behind Benjen was the Wall; it stood out of the ground with the sunlight reflecting off its surface. And behind Benjen were the Lannister retinue with Tyrion Lannister at the front. His horse was turned towards him, and Jon could see the man was looking back at him with a look of concern.

Jon's eyes then turned towards his Uncle and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Uncle."

"Nephew," Benjen replied with a chuckle before he turned around and told the others to go on, and that both he and Jon would be right behind them. Jon looked to his left and watched the other Brothers walk away behind the Lannister retinue on their horses. Benjen then turned back to Jon and asked, "are you alright? It seemed as if you simply lost consciousness and fell to the ground. Lucky for you, it snowed heavily the last night so the snow took the impact of your fall."

Jon glanced at the last Black Brother passing them on his horse before he followed Benjen to two other horses to their left; one was his and the other Benjen's. As he walked, Jon couldn't help but wonder, 'I'm here. I'm here in the past which means that our plans will have to change or… or…' Jon had an impassive expression on his face as Benjen turned and motioned him towards the horse, 'by the gods, Sansa. At least you need to know… you… oh, and Lyarra… the both of you need to know.' Jon pushed aside any changes that needed to be made to the plan as he stopped next to the horse designated as his before putting his foot into the stirrup. He then looked back towards Benjen who was about to get onto his own horse, "Uncle."

Jon then looked around and made sure that they were alone, which they were since the last horse was several paces in front. Jon got on his horse and then turned back to Benjen and whispered, "I can't take the Black." Jon was honourable just as his Uncle Eddard, he couldn't do what he needed to do… press his rightful claim to the Iron Throne following the upcoming war against the dead… if he took the Black.

"Jon," Benjen smiled after settling down on the saddle, the reins in his hands. Jon missed that smile, "I understand that…"

"Uncle, listen to me," Jon whispered, "once we get to Castle Black, I need to talk to you and Lord Commander Mormont on top of the wall. In private."

"Jon, I…"

"Please," Jon begged in a whisper, his eyes locked with Benjen's, "there's no time to waste. Where… or rather when I come from, the…"

"When?" Benjen was confused as he maneuvered the horse next to Jon's and then placed the back of his hand on Jon's forehead, "have you hit your head? Do you have a fever?"

"We lost, Uncle," Jon said in a low voice leaning into Benjen who stared back at him confused, "in a month, you will go out ranging. Your entire group, save one, will die."

"What are you…."

"No, they did not die," Jon whispered as if he was talking to himself, making the look of confusion on Benjen's face deepen, "no, they will make up the army of the dead," Jon said before he turned his head and stared at the distant horses and then back to a very confused Benjen, "I… my essence has returned to this time from nearly twenty years in the future."

"Jon, this is…." Benjen shook his head.

"Ask me any question that you think I should not know," Jon whispered, afraid the wind will carry his voice towards the others, especially to the ears of Tyrion Lannister. He knew that while the dwarf was their ally back in the future, in the past he still was a Lannister… one that hadn't experienced the betrayals of his own family. "Please Uncle, ask me anything about the Wall."

"I'm sure Ned's already mentioned the name of the Lord Commander," Benjen said. Jon could tell the man was simply trying to play with him. He didn't believe, and of course Jon didn't blame him. Jon nodded his head at Benjen's question.

"Just ask me, Uncle," Jon whispered, encouraging Benjen, "please, just ask."

And Benjen did ask the questions he was sure that Jon would never know; from then name of the cook, to the name of the master-at-arms at Castle Black. And the look on Benjen's face was one of utter disbelief when Jon answered those questions correctly. He even gave Benjen details of what they looked like, the answers causing the older Stark to pale.

"How? How can you know? Maybe Ned told you…"

"I told you, Uncle," Jon sighed while staring at Benjen, "this is my second chance at life." He talked about what happened in their future; from the fall of the Wall, to the fall of Winterfell and Moat Cailin, to the fall of the rest of the North, to the exodus of the Northerners to the Three Sisters and the destruction and subjugation of the rest of Westeros before fall of civilization in the rest of the world. As their horses trotted side by side, Jon could see that Benjen looked as if he was going to throw up the more he continued talking.

"Bran became something called the Three Eyed Raven…"

"That's a story," Benjen narrowed his eyes at Jon, "a myth."

"Like the White Walkers?" Jon countered and Benjen looked away. Jon then continued as he glared at the rest of the retinue in the distance, "Bran was in some kind of deep sleep, and when he awake, he told us of a spell to go back in time." Jon didn't want to give the grisly details, so he skipped several details. Instead, he just summarised by saying, "the magic was able to send back only three physical bodies. And I wasn't supposed to be one of them."

"So how are you here, and.. wait… you said three physical bodies?" Benjen whispered, "who? And how are you…?"

Jon stopped, as did Benjen. They looked out to the distance and saw the retinue had reach the gates of Castle Black. Jon then sighed and looked over at Benjen, "my wife, my daughter, and my best friend have been sent back to change things."

"Jon, you…" Benjen shook his head. Jon could see he was speechless before sighing.

"I married, I had a daughter, I…" Jon stopped talking as he remembered the first-born son he had with Sansa… the one who died from an outbreak of the Pox. "I had a son…" Jon shook his head before continuing, "anyway, we had a plan. They would take up new names once they returned to the past and perform the duties we agreed. There was never a plan for me to return, but since I have… those plans need to change. I cannot take the Black, Uncle. I…"

"Assuming what you say is true," Benjen said holding his hands up, "Jon, you are still Ned's Natural born son, you…"

"Who told Uncle Brandon that Rhaegar Targaryen kidnapped your sister, Uncle?" Jon said, his steely eyes now locked onto Benjen's grey orbs, "did Uncle Brandon ever read the missive that Lyanna left in her chambers?"

"What missive?" Benjen asked, "and of course Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna, and…"

"Who told Uncle Brandon?" Jon repeated his question, although he already knew the answer. There was something in him that needed confirmation that Littlefinger was involved somehow/ Jon didn't know why Littlefinger would do such a thing, 'no, that's not true either. Sansa said he wanted power. He wanted to sit on the Iron Throne with Sansa by his side. She told me that Littlefinger loved Lady Stark and so he… when they were younger… he challenged Brandon to a duel and lost. And the snake hated the wolf ever since then, so… no… it's too much. A boy couldn't start off a war just like…"

"It was a close friend of Lady Stark's," Benjen said as Jon's eyes went wide, "Paetyr Baelish."

"Uncle," Jon said, "there are somethings that cannot be said here or at Castle Black. I need you to convince the Lord Commander that I need to speak to him, Maester Aemon, and yourself at the Heart Tree in the Haunted Forest. Not the top of the wall. Sorry, we need the Heart Tree."

"Jon…"

"Please, Uncle," Jon whispered, "I've seen the world end. In my future, our family has been nearly decimated. Father was betrayed and murdered.."

"What?" Benjen exclaimed.

"Lady Stark and Robb were betrayed and murdered, Rickon was betrayed and murdered, Bran became the Three Eyed Raven after he escaped the sack and burning of Winterfell…"

"Jon, what are you saying?" Benjen had his eyes open wide in shock, his face twisted in horror

"The only ones to survive the War of the Five Kings from our family was Sansa, Arya, Bran, and myself," Jon shook his head, "the realm was shattered, Uncle. The North fell, and during our exodus Arya died while protecting the people fleeing Moat Cailin. I saw her die. I saw you die. I cannot… will not have our family suffer. That was Sansa's mission… to convince the king to strengthen the realm under one banner for the Long Night and the coming War for the Dawn."

Jon was panting from his outburst as he stared at Benjen.

"The coming of the dead is the main concern, Uncle," Jon said, "what comes after that is something we will deal with at another time. So, please, can you grant me an audience with the Lord Commander, Master Aemon, and yourself under the Heart Tree? Why I cannot take the Black will be explained at that time. There… there is something else you should know as well."

Benjen nodded his head.

"Thank you," Jon whispered, "I swear by the Old Gods, Uncle, what I'm about to tell you is the truth."

All Benjen could do was nod his head once again.

Winterfell

Catelyn

Those words brought a feeling of inexplicable terror as Catelyn stared at the older version of her oldest daughter who supposedly travelled from far in the future, "to prevent the end of the world?" Even repeating those words made Catelyn shiver as she looked over at Robb standing next to her. She saw the look of confusion on his face before her eyes shifted towards Luwin, and then to Theon, and then to Ser Rodrik before she turned towards Sansa and her companions, 'one of them is a granddaughter that… well, I will have had?'

Before she could say anything, Robb spoke up, "Sansa, I believe you are from the future… I mean that;s the only explaination for… well…" Robb then motioned towards Sansa while Catelyn focused on her oldest daughter before turning towards Elisa, 'there is something about her… something familiar that I could not put my finger on.' Catelyn turned back towards Sansa who spoke of something that was supposed to be only a story… at least to those in the South.

Three words. She only said two words that had Catelyn glance towards Robb who listened to the stories from Old Nan.

"The Long Night," Sansa had said. Those words had Catelyn, Robb, Theon, Luwin, and Rodrik looking at each other in disbelief before they focused on Sansa, "the Wall fell, the War for the Dawn began with the destruction of Karhold, and then…" Sansa closed her eyes as Catelyn looked over at Elisa who had her hand on Sansa's shoulder while the former had a faraway look on her face, "and then the Last Hearth, the Dreadfort… the dead rose up and fought the living…"

"Sansa…" Catelyn spoke out, "you have to understand that what…"

"Winterfell was destroyed, Lady Stark," Sam said so that Sansa could regain her composure, "we made our way towards Moat Cailin but… but even that was destroyed in a push by the dead."

"But the South… the South should have…"

"The South," Sansa scoffed shaking her head as Sam pressed his lips together at remembering all the unanswered missives for aid, "the South betrayed us all. We called for aid, they never came. Even the Mad Queen swore to help, but betrayed us out of spite."

"The Mad Queen?" Luwin asked, "another Targaryen?"

"So we left the South to suffer," Sansa said, ignoring Luwin. Catelyn gasped at the rage on her daughter's face as the older Sansa stared at the ground, "we lost so many that day…"

"Aunt Arya was the greatest loss," Elisa said to Catelyn's shock, it felt as if a huge weight had crashed down on her as she imagined an older version of her younger daughter dying alone, "she died saving lives. As did so many. Mother told me stories of her over candlelight…" Catelyn's gaze turned towards Elisa who then whispered, "I never saw the sun… at least not fully. I never saw the stars in the sky.. nor did I fully see the moon. Mother, father, and uncle Sam told me stories of what the sun would look like… but the heavy clouds in the sky block out most light so we lived our lives mostly in darkness."

"Mother," Sansa said as Catelyn turned towards her, "there are many other things we must speak of. But we must speak here, away from prying eyes and ears of the Spider and…" Catelyn froze when Sansa suddenly grabbed the sides of her head and gasped before stumbling back.

"Sansa!"

"Mother!"

Catelyn saw Sansa fall onto one knee as she removed her hands away from her head and stared at her in surprise. Catelyn watched as Sansa then turned her head towards Eliza who was kneeling next to her while gently holding onto her upper arm. She watched Sansa furrow her eyebrows at Elisa before shaking her head and then turning her head around, their eyes locking with each other.

"Mother?" Sansa asked before she looked over to Robb and then to Luwin and the others before looking back at Elisa, "who are you?" Catelyn saw the look of confusion on Elisa's face before Sansa looked back at her and said, "Mother? I… I was… I was tying the lease to Lady so that I could… I mean… how.. how am I here at Winterfell?"

"Who are you people?" Sam said as Catelyn, surprised by this new turn of events looked towards the other man who was now stumbling away from them, fear etched on his face, "I… I was at Eastwatch by the Sea and… and where am I?"

Catelyn and a very concerned Elisa then locked eyes with each other; the former certain that they were sharing the same thoughts, 'what in the name of the gods is happening now?'

TBC.


	4. Chapter 4

**Arya, Castle Darry.**

Arya made sure that Needle was packed away beneath her clothes in the wooden chest laying in one corner of her chambers before she reached up and shut the cover. The little girl then looked around her chamber in Castle Darry overlooking the crowded courtyard, where the Starks and the King were going to rest for the night before making the final push towards Kings Landing the next day. She walked over to the window so that she could take a look at the clear blue morning sky with the sun continuing it's rise into the sky. The courtyard was bustling with people from the Stark Household and the Kings own retinue as they dashed from one tent to another fetching food for the breaking of the fast, along with barrels of wine for the king.

Upon hearing the whine to her left, Arya turned her head to smile at Nymeria who was seated on all fours on the cool floor to the right side of the bed as she titled her head at her mistress.

"Do you want to go for a walk, girl?" Arya asked as she turned and walked towards a table next to a mirror. At the same time, Nymeria got up off the floor and onto all four of her paws before opening up her jaws into a yawn. She then jogged on all fours towards Arya who was holding a leash in her hands. "But first, we have to meet father…" Arya then rolled her eyes before sarcastically saying, "and then our future Queen and the insufferable Joffrey."

Arya knew better than to yell it out, and so she whispered while going down on both knees to attach the leash to Nymeria's collar as she continued, "I still don't know what Sansa sees in that Joffrey. All she wants is someone handsome and princely… whatever that means, and Joffrey… well, that boys has something wrong with him I can see that." She then looked straight into Nymeria's eyes after attaching the leash to the collar, "I bet that boy doesn't even know how to swing a sword."

Arya glanced at the chest and wished she knew how to use Needle, 'maybe I can ask Father if there is someone in Kings Landing who can teach me. He was always more tolerant of me taking up the bow and arrow… maybe he'll accept my using a sword.'

After mentally making a note to talk to Ned after reaching Kings Landing, Arya stood up, grabbed the leash attached to Nymeria's collar, and was about to lead Nymeria towards the door when there was a sudden knock. Three light knocks.

"Yes?" Arya said as she walked towards the door, but stopped when it opened and a figure in a light blue dress walked through the threshold. "Sansa?" Arya asked as her older sister looked at her with a stunned look on her face. The redhead then turned and leaned out to stare into the empty hallway while backing into the room as Lady, Sansa's direwolf, trotted into the room and made her way to Nymeria. Sansa then turned back towards Arya while she closed the door behind her. Arya looked up to see the look of surprise turn into one of pain as Sansa' hands covered her mouth as tears gathered in the redhead's eyes.

Arya narrowed her eyes as she watched Sansa take a few steps forward before getting on her knees, the front of her skirt lying on the slightly dirty floor. Arya couldn't help but be surprised; not only was Sansa, her shallow sister, on her knees on a dirt covered floor – her dress was on the ground too and the girl wasn't even complaining. And what was even more surprising was that the red-haired girl reached out, put her arms around Arya, and then pulled her close for a tight hug. Arya felt Sansa rest her chin on her shoulder – the littlest Stark girl then feeling wet drops falling onto her shoulder.

"Sansa?" Arya said confused her arms by her side, one hand still holding onto the lease, "what are you doing?"

"Can't I just hug my sister?" Sansa whispered into Arya's ear before she pulled back; but not before kissing Arya's cheek, must to the latter's surprise once again.

"You haven't done so in years… at least not voluntarily," Arya frowned before she slightly raised her voice, "what do you want? If this is about Joffrey, I won't…"

"SHHH," Sansa covered Arya's mouth with the palm of her hand before looking back over her shoulder towards the door. Thinking she head footsteps, the redhead waited for a minute while a look of consternation was painted on Arya's face. Arya then saw Sansa turn her head back towards her with a serious expression on her face, an expression that was then painted with a look of anger that lasted for an instant before it was gone, and replaced with a small smile. It was something else that was unusual, Arya thought, and it all happened within a few seconds of one another.

Sansa looked into Arya's eyes as she placed a hand on her cheek, before whispering, "there are birds and spiders everywhere listening to what we say." Arya narrowed her eyes at her sister, trying to understand what she meant. Before Arra could ask though, Sansa whispered, "there are spies everywhere, I don't know how long I have with you, but…"

"What…" Arya mumbled before she frowned, her eyes shifting downwards towards the hand covering her lips before she stared back into Sansa's eyes. She thought, 'what's wrong with you? What do you mean that there are spies everywhere? And what do you mean you don't know how long you have with me?'

Sansa then interrupted Arya's thoughts by hugging her again, this time the redhead's lips were over her sister's left ear, "listen to me. I don't know how or why I'm here in my younger body, but…" Arya tried to wriggle her body away at hearing these strange words coming out of her sister's lips, but Sansa held on tight. Arya's wriggling stopped, and her body froze, when Sansa said, "I know that Jon gave you Needle."

"How…." Arya whispered as she stared stunned at the closed door, her cheek brushing Sansa's red hair. Arya's mind was racing as she wondered if she told Sansa about her gift from Jon, but nothing came to mind. She knew Sansa couldn't have simply known about the sword on her own because if she did then, she would have told Ned, and Ned would have taken the sword away from her.

"This may sound insane, but I'm from over twenty years in the future," Sansa whispered as Arya's blood chilled and her eyes opened wide, "I need you to stay with father or in your chambers after breaking the fast. Don't go off training like I know you want to…"

"I…."

"If you do, then Lady will die," Sansa whispered in Arya's ear as Lady and Nymeria perked their ears upwards, and Arya continued to stand still as if she was trapped in a block of ice, "the Arya I know is a master swordswoman. And I need you to slowly become that woman again." Arya knew instinctively that this wasn't her sister; no sister of hers would so blatantly want her to even hold a sword… the sister she knew would rather be a lady and dream about princes and songs. The sister Arya knew would never say what Sansa said next, "so when you get to Kings Landing show Needle to Father. Ask him to have a man named Syrio Forel teach you. Nod if you understand."

Arya didn't understand. But she nodded anyway. Her mind was trying to process everything Sansa was saying as the latter continued to speak in a rushed whisper.

"Tell father to keep what I am about to say a secret, for now."

"San…"

"He must keep it a secret even from the King," Sansa whispered, the girl holding onto Arya tightly.

Arya silently nodded her head before Sansa continued, "Our Lord Father is the most honourable man we know, and I know he will want to inform the king of what I will tell you," Sansa whispered as Arya's blood chilled, "you have to promise me, Arya, to tell Father how important it is that he not tell the King anything yet. I am coming to Kings Landing… the older me, that is. I will explain everything in detail then, first to father and then to the king. But… but for now, do not go and train. You will be saving Lady's life, and the life of an innocent boy."

Sansa then pulled away, while still on her knees, and looked into Arya's childishly curious eyes.

"I forgot how young you were, Arya," Sansa said with a look of sadness in her eyes, it was something that Arya did not miss. It made her wonder if Sansa's ridiculous admission of being from the future carried some weight; particularly since Sansa had never shown that kind of sad expression towards her.

But before Arya could say anything, Sansa continued on talking.

"I trusted you once with my life, my sister," Sansa whispered much to Arya's surprise, "I need you to trust me now."

The still astonished Arya nodded her head.

"If… wait, if what you say is true… why?" Arya shook her head in disbelief that she was even entertaining the question swirling in her mind, "why come back? What do you want me to tell father?"

"The time I come from… the future… the Wall fell," Arya was about to laugh, but the serious look on Sansa's face told the little girl that it wasn't a joke, "winter fell, Arya. The Night King's army of the dead walked into Westeros and swept through like a raging river that left nothing behind. They killed so many, and the people they killed… even. Those who were buried years ago rose up and joined the army of the dead."

Arya had her eyes wide open in horror as she continued to listen, "we moved to Moat Cailin after Winterfell was burned to the ground. Hours after the dead came to the Moat, we were about to lose. The South didn't come to our aid, so the decision was made to take the hidden passageways to White Harbour and then use whatever ships were not destroyed, and sail towards the Three Sisters." Sansa then ran her hands through Arya's hair, "you didn't want to leave until everyone else had left." Arya saw tears falling down Sansa's cheeks, "you fought with several knights and Wildlings against the dead… you and them held back the horde enough for us to escape. But… but you never made it out."

Arya looked away as her mind tried to process what Sansa was telling her – the dead, the Wall falling, the Night King, her future-self dying. There was so much she was trying to process that she was getting a headache. Arya didn't want to believe Sansa, but the way Sansa's voice cracked and tears fell down her cheeks upon mentioning her death gave Arya some pause in her disbelief.

"Tell Father that Jon led us out to a new life in the Three Sisters."

"Jon… Jon is here? Is…"

"He sacrificed his life… as did Bran… to send me and two others back to the past."

"Sansa, is this a bad jest?"

"I wish it was, Arya," Sansa whispered before continuing, "I do not know how my... well, I suppose my spirit… is here when I was in my older body back in Winterfell. But tell father to confirm my story by sending a raven back home." Sansa's mind raced for a message that anyone who intercepted it would not understand, "tell him to ask if the pack is together. And I will send a reply from Winterfell stating that the Northern pack sends their regards." Sansa then pulled back and stared into Arya's surprised eyes.

"How? How did you… you know about Needle, or…"

"You will show it to me years from now," Sansa whispered, "tell father that I and… well, your niece.."

"Niece?" Arya whispered with eyes wide open, "Sansa, I have…. Wait, you married? Who did you marry? Please do not tell me it is Joff…"

"It is not Joffrey," Sansa said as Arya breathed a sigh of relief, "Tell Father that this is of the utmost secrecy." Sansa then continued, "we will come to Kings Landing after we have rested. Tell him to hold off on anything he needs to do about Jon Aryn. Tell him that I have information that cannot be spoken off now. Arya, I need to know that you understand how secretive this has to be."

"I…" Arya took in a deep breath and, before she even realized it, said, "I will tell him in secret."

"I cannot be here for too long, I suppose," Sansa whispered as Arya looked on, "no matter what I may say or do, know that I love you, my sister." Arya nodded her head as Sansa continued, "and when I turn to my younger self, don't tell me our conversation. It is only for you and father, if you tell me than I may…"

"Sansa?" Arya said as the red-haired girl brought her hand to the side of her head and grimaced in pain.

"If father doesn't believe anything," Sansa was panting now as she whispered about a pull within her chest before saying, "tell him that I know about the truth about the blue winter rose. I… tell him, in confidence, that I know about the Tower."

"Sansa?" Arya said worriedly as her sister shook her head before narrowing her eyes at her. Sansa then looked around the chamber before she looked over at Arya once again.

"Why are you here, Arya?" Sansa said as she rose up to her feet before spinning around and then looking back at Arya, "I must have been… I had the strongest dream that I was back in Winterfell."

"Huh?" Arya whispered as she stared up at her confused sister who was rubbing the back of her head. Arya was wondering if the Sansa she had been speaking to all this while was now gone just as the girl in front of her looked back down before saying, "mother, Robb, Theon, Luwin, and Ser Rodrik was there… so was this woman who called me mother, and.. and a very fat man who looked as if he belonged in the Nights Watch."

'My niece,' Arya thought after Sansa made mention of the woman who called her 'mother'. Arya, who wondered who was the unlucky soul to have married Sansa of all people, couldn't help as a small smile formed on her lips when she looked away from Sansa, who then huffed before saying that she wasn't even in her own room. Arya then looked back at Sansa who signalled at Lady that they had to go before she looked down at her blue dress and whined that she had to change out of it because her skirt was now dirty.

'Now this is the sister I know.'

"You came to my chambers walking in your sleep, Sansa," Arya huffed sarcastically, "you better be wary, your 'beloved' Joffrey may not like that." Arya looked away from a horrified Sansa while wondering if the Sansa who had been talking to her until now was really an older Sansa from the future. It sounded ridiculous to the little girl, but then again, the Sansa she knew would never weave such a silly story. But it was no matter, this version of Sansa wouldn't dare tell anyone about her dream, and about finding herself in Arya's room – she would be too afraid of being labelled a mentally ill woman unfit for the Prince.

'She knew about Needle, and I never told anyone about Jon giving me that sword,' thought Arya to herself as Sansa mumbled that she needed to change her dress before she slipped out of Arya's chambers, closing the door behind her. The last thing Arya heard from Sansa as she ambled down the hallway to her chambers next door was why she had such a strange dream… a dream that made her sleep walk towards Arya's room.

Shaking her head, Arya grabbed Nymeria's leash before the two of them rushed out the door and towards the feast hall. The raven-haired girl made a mental note to speak with Ned after breaking her fast, and in the meantime, she wanted to absorb everything that she was told.

'This will be a very long day.'

**Jon**

The closer that Jon got towards the wall, the more his mind went back to the day before he, Sansa, and the others set sail on their suicidal mission. He closed his eyes while holding onto the reigns of the horse, feeling the cold wind scratching his beardless, thirteen nameday old, face while his mind went back to the last day he spent with his wife in their chambers.

"My Queen," Jon whispered as he placed his bare hands on the black leather covering Sansa's hips while she was staring out the window towards the falling snow and dark grey clouds in the sky. The frost covered sea was in the distance, the surface reflecting the clouds above. The sheen from a very thin layer of ice could be made out on the water, which rippled thanks to the falling snow and sleet. Without looking back, Sansa placed her hands on top of his, which rest on her abdomen. She then leant back into his chest while his arms tightened their hold on her body, pulling her into him, "I know you're unsure of this plan. I know you believe it is…"

"Insane," Sansa whispered, her hands on the arms around her body as he lay his chin on her shoulder, the greyish beard scratching her neck through the dark red hair cascading down the side of her face, "what if it is unsuccessful, Jon?"

"What if it is?" Jon countered. He heard Sansa sigh before she spoke once again.

"You and Bran would be dead, and the three of us would be in the past," Sansa whispered before adding, "my King."

"I have to believe this will work, Sansa," Jon whispered, "and if it des not, then all of us will meet in the next life."

Sansa shook her head before bringing her hand up to the side of his cheek, his beard parting as her fingers sunk through and caressed his rough skin, "after three sham marriages, I finally found the man I love and now I… and our daughter… have to let you go." Sansa then turned around to face Jon, the man's hands now around her lower back while Sansa placed her hands on his shoulders, "how is that fair, Jon? How can we let you go so easily?"

"This is for the future of mankind," Jon reminded Sansa, looking deep into her blue eyes, "and you will find someone. There will be honourable men in the North who would…"

"I want you," Sansa whispered, "I know I sound like the spoiled girl I used to be, but I want you, Jon. And if this works, you will be a boy of fourteen name days and I am already an old maid."

Jon couldn't help but chuckle before he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers, "you are no old maid, Sansa." He then kissed her gently on the lips before parting, their lips inches away as he spoke, "you are kind," he kissed her again before pulling back slightly, "gentle, loving," and he kissed her again before tilting his head and leaning forward whispering into her ear, "and the most beautiful woman I've ever met." Jon then formed a smile on his face before continuing, "and you're the mother of our daughter. She will need you, Sansa."

"But you won't be there, Jon," Sansa whispered before she leaned her head forward and rested it on the black fur covered leather on his shoulder, "if this works, you will not be with me… with us. You would be with the Nights Watch, my younger self would perhaps be angry that she would be taken away from Joffrey, and..."

"You will find yourself a good man, Sansa, and most importantly… you and Lyarra will be safe," Jon whispered into her ear while thinking, 'I want to go with you, my love.' And he did want to go. As Jon leaned in to passionately kiss Sansa, Jon's thoughts were on his wife… only on his wife and his wish that she have a better life in the past.

That day, the King and Queen of what remained of Westeros didn't leave their chambers. Not for their lunch, mid afternoon snack, nor for their dinner. All their guards were told was that they were not to be disturbed before the doors to their chambers were locked from the inside.

And all that reverberated through the halls that night were the intimate sounds of husband and wife, King and Queen, of two lovers whose lives together were nearing the end.

At least that is what the both of them believed.

**Near the Wall, Present Day.**

'I'm here, Sansa of House Stark and Targaryen,' Jon thought to himself as he stared at the wall, 'I'll send you a message only you would understand…. And from that message you will be able to tell I am here. The Jon you know is here.'

He thought about their act of passion before the two of them, together with Lyarra, Sam, and the others, left the Three Sisters for the calm waters outside Kings Landing. That was to be the last couple of days they would spend together. But now, everything changed.

'I am here, Sansa,' Jon thought once again as he whipped the reigns, causing his horse to trot forward, 'I am here.'

**Winterfell, now.**

Sansa was still on the ground as Catelyn and Robb where on their knees next to her while Lyarra, or rather Elisa, was helping keep the panting Sam calm along with Luwin and Rodrick as Theon looked on with a confused expression on his face.

'Lyarra!' Sansa mentally yelled out as she turned her head past Catelyn and towards her daughter who was talking to Sam before their eyes locked, "Elisa!"

"Mother?" Elisa quizzically asked as she shimmied towards her while Luwin and Rodrick were looking after a very confused Sam, "what happened? You were hysterical… thinking this was a dream and wondering why you were not in your chambers in Castle Derry."

"And I believe I just got off the ship at East Watch by the Sea," Sam whispered shaking his head, "it was very unsettling to have to see the Wall, even if it is standing, once again."

Sansa was breathing in and out as she recalled finding herself in her chambers at Castle Derry before she rushed out towards Arya's room. She needed to know if what she was seeing was a dream or not, 'not that I could tell the difference. But I know… I know in my heart that it was Arya I spoke to.' She looked up at the concerned expression on Rob and Catelyn's face before looking over at Elisa, "I think, somehow, I was in my younger body… perhaps our spirits switched bodies?"

"But why?" Catelyn asked.

"Sam?" Sansa said as she rubbed her head while Lyarra placed her arm around her shoulders, "was there any warnings to using this particular spell?"

"None," Sam said shaking his head, "I do have to say it was very disorientating, however the possibility of it happening once again is… well… unknown." And that was true. However, Bran had warned all of them there could be unforeseen consequences to travelling back into the past since such an act was against the course of Nature. 'Perhaps this is the consequence? But what does it mean?'

"So what do we do in the meantime?" Elisa asked as she wondered if an attack like this, where the younger version of her mother and Sam took over their older bodies and vice versa, could happen again.

"I would require access to the Winterfell library," Sam said shaking his head before looking up at Luwin, "Maester, I believe there are still some ancient tomes that survived the fire. If I may…"

"Of course," Luwin nodded his head, the man was still stupefied about what was happening around him, but his curiosity got the better of him. Here were three people purportedly from the future, and he was curious to know what was coming for them… he wanted to know about the End that Sansa had touched on, as well as the betrayal by the South, 'did the Citadel do nothing to help?'

"I spoke to Arya," Sansa said, bringing everyone's focus back to her, "I asked her to speak to father, to inform him of what has happened and… most importantly… to keep us a secret." She then looked up at Catelyn, "Mother, we should be receiving a raven from father within the next day. Once it arrives, I will need to attach the appropriate response so that Father knows we are real. That we are not a figment of Arya's imagination."

Catelyn then nodded her head.

"But before that, mother," Sansa continued, "we need to rest. Then we must talk of the future, and then we must make preparations for Kings Landing."

"Kings Landing?" Theon asked.

"We need to speak to the King… at least Elisa and I must speak to him." Sansa then looked over at Sam who nodded his head, "and Sam has a ship to catch that would take him to Essos."

"Why Essos?"

"That is what we must talk about, mother," Sansa said with a small smile, "and I doubt any of you will like it. However, the person Sam seeks is necessary for the future." Sansa then sighed before looking back at Robb, "there are a lot of things we need to talk about, Brother."

TBC.


End file.
